


A Lesson in Trostland

by NobilisReed



Series: Kinderguardian [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 02:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13285107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobilisReed/pseuds/NobilisReed
Summary: The Kinderguardian learns his first lesson.





	A Lesson in Trostland

"You aren't regretting your decision, are you?" My ghost hovered nearby as I sat on the edge of a platform in the ruins of the hangar where I had once worked. The Traveler loomed, its smooth tranquility transformed, as if it were caught just beginning to turn itself inside-out. Its inner structures were visible past the chunks of its outer shell that slowly orbited it.

I wasn't looking at the Traveler, though. I was looking at my hand, glove off. It didn't look all that different from before Ghost had resurrected me not far from where I sat, just a week before. The scar on the back of my hand, where I had cut it open while retrieving a force wrench from cranny under the blast shields was still there. Missing was the layer of grime I would pick up in a normal shift, and all the little cuts and abrasions. Even the callouses were different--the Victoire S12 on my hip fit my hand a lot differently than a welding torch or a force spanner. And I had the Victoire in my hand a lot the past few days.

I looked at Ghost, tight-lipped. "If I did regret it, would you blame me?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Why did you even pick me? I'm not a warrior, or a pilot, or an arcanist. All I'm good for is getting my hands dirty. Making things. Fixing things."

My ghost swung around to hover between me and the Traveler. "I picked you, because you care about people, and your first instinct is to protect them. You're willing to sacrifice yourself to do it."

"What good is that if I can't shoot straight, or throw a grenade where I want it to go?"

"That will come. You just need practice."

I snorted. "What, in the Crucible? No. I never liked watching it before you made me into a Guardian, and I'm not going to participate now. It's creepy. All that death--and none of it means anything."

"That's how Guardians hone their skills."

"Well, that says a lot about Guardians, then, doesn't it?" I stood up. "I'm going out on patrol. Bring in the ship."

A few moments later, the sleek shape of my Echo Zero swung around the side of the tower to hover ten meters or so, in the vast space blown open by the Red Legion missiles.

It was mine. My own ship. Amanda Holliday had issued it to me when I showed up, nervous and tongue-tied. When she showed it to me, she asked me my favorite color. I told her white was just fine.

I could use that ship to take me anywhere in the solar system in a matter of minutes.

Anywhere except my former life.

I envied the other Guardians, whose friends and family were long dead and forgotten, Guardians whose entire existence felt like it started the moment their Ghosts had returned them from the dead. Or at least, that's what everyone said. I wasn't sure I believed it.

In the middle of my reverie, the transmat beam scooped me into the cockpit.

"Where to?" asked Ghost.

"European Dead Zone," I said. "Trostland."

"Are you sure you're ready? That's a pretty hot sector."

"I'm not," I said. "But that's where the active beacons are, so that's where I'm going."

"Alright, you're the boss." Ghost shot a few interface beams at the ship's controls. We spun around and headed out over the city, arcing past the Traveler.

 * * * * *

 Devrim Kay stood next to his favorite window, away from the line of sight of anything that might think to shoot up into his nest. The Trostland drop zone was just a quick run from the church whose steeple held his command post, but I had seen enough in those seconds before I got into the church to know that his caution about making himself a target was prudent.

"A brand new Guardian, eh?" he said, a slight accent indicating that he probably came from one of the Northern districts of the City.

"Very new," said Ghost.

"And I want to make a difference," I said.

Devrim raised an eyebrow. "Ah yes, I've heard of you. Your ghost picked you after the Traveler re-awakened, did it not?"

"That's true."

"And you haven't see any action yet."

"No. Just simulations. Target practice."

"Well then. Before we go any further...let's see if you have what it takes, shall we?" He nodded to a stack of crates nearby. "Crack one of those open."

I opened the one on the top. Inside, there was a rifle--a very long rifle--with a large scope mounted on it.

"Troubador sniper rifle," said Devrim. "Not the best you can get, but sufficient for today."

It took it out and checked the action. The chamber was empty, but there were three rounds in the clip. There were four more clips in the crate, loaded and ready.

He stepped away from his window. "Bring it over here. Stand back a ways from the window, and look through the sights, down into that courtyard. Don't let the barrel extend past the sill-that gives away your presence."

I did as he instructed. The distance wasn't far, so in the telescopic sight an overgrown statue looked close enough to reach out and touch.

"Scan around a bit," he said. "There's usually one or two Cabal legionnaires stalking around."

After a few seconds, I found one. Its red armor stood out against the dusky greens and browns of the terrain. The Fallen had been pushed back, it seemed, and that little piece of street was under Cabal control.

"Got one in your sights?" he asked.

"Yes." My heart beat faster.

Devrim's voice sounded close, like he was standing right behind me. His voice was soft, calm, almost soothing. "Aim at the center of its head, exhale, and squeeze the trigger."

The legionaire was advancing slowly. It was easy to center the alien's head in the crosshairs. "I've never killed any...anything before," I said.

"Then now is the time to start."

I looked up from the weapon. Devrim had indeed moved closer, but he wasn't looking out the window. He was looking at me.

He nodded grimly. "A Red Legion trooper like that one, fired a barrage of missiles into the tower."

Suddenly, I remembered Janiene, and Pedro, and Jamal. They hadn't had a ghost to bring them back from the dead. "They killed my friends," I said. 

"Yes, they did. And they want to kill more of them. They want to make humanity extinct. Erase all of us."

I looked back down the sights. The legionaire had stopped. It swiveled its head side to side, looking around, as if expecting an ambush.

I exhaled, and squeezed the trigger.


End file.
